


Bucky vs. Fashion

by Rainne



Series: Bucky vs. the 21st Century [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Instagram, get in loser we're going shopping, natasha has fans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 14:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19396150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainne/pseuds/Rainne
Summary: Get in, loser, we're going shopping.





	Bucky vs. Fashion

On the fifteenth of December, Natasha showed up on the front stoop of the little Brooklyn house, tapping her foot impatiently. “Come on, loser,” she said when Bucky answered the door. “We’re going shopping.”

Bucky pulled on a pair of shoes (whose? no idea) from the Ever-Growing Pile and grabbed his wallet. He pulled a coat on as he stepped out the door, then locked it behind him. “What for?” he asked.

“Clothes,” Natasha replied. “I’ve had all I can take of you schlubbing around in Steve’s and Sam’s clothes. They don’t suit you. You need your own.”

Bucky hummed noncommittally. Not that he had any real argument; it was only that Sam had just been complaining a few days ago about how everything Bucky wore belonged to either him or Steve _“and you’re always wearing the shit I wanna wear when I wanna wear it, dammit.”_

“You’ve been talking to Sam,” Bucky said as they headed up the street.

“I was thinking it before Sam started complaining about it,” Natasha replied, and Bucky chewed his lip. Maybe Sam was really upset about it. Maybe Bucky needed to apologize.

Maybe it didn’t matter at the moment; the bus was pulling up to the stop at the end of the block, and Natasha was maneuvering him onto it. She reached around him and swiped her Metro card, then swiped again for herself, and they grabbed a pair of seats near the back of the bus. “Where are we going?” he asked her. “I mean, specifically.”

“Gateway Center,” Natasha replied. “Eventually I’ll teach you about the local shops, but for today the mall will do.”

“I know about the local shops,” Bucky replied, a little edge in his voice. “I _have_ lived in this neighborhood since the spring.”

“Then why haven’t you bought yourself any clothing?” she asked.

“Why should I,” he replied, “when I could wear Sam’s and Steve’s?”

She studied him. “You’re much more of an asshole than you let on.”

He raised his phone and took a picture of her face, then posted it on Instagram with the caption _Out on the town with the Black Widow. If you see us, stop her and ask for a picture. She loves that shit._

“You will pay for that, Barnes,” she told him.

He shrugged. “Won’t be the first time.” He nudged her. “You should get an Instagram, too. People love us on Instagram.”

“What, Avengers?”

“Supers in general,” Bucky replied. “Spider-Man has almost as many followers as Tony does, and some of those X-kids from the Xavier School are huge.”

“They’re all kids, though,” Natasha replied, waving a dismissive hand.

Bucky shrugged. “Sue Storm’s not a kid,” he replied. “She follows me. Johnny does, too. Have you noticed how much he looks like Steve? It’s uncanny.”

“He’s like a younger Steve with a dumber haircut,” Natasha agreed. Then she pulled her phone out. “All right, I’ll give it a shot. Walk me through setting it up.”

By the time they reached the mall, her account (@SpiderNat) was set up and she’d put in for verification. Bucky took another picture of her and posted it along with her information, so that word would start to spread, and they climbed off the bus together, wandering into Nordstrom arm-in-arm.

Bucky kept count; they were stopped thirty-four times by people asking for pictures with Natasha. (He didn’t count how many wanted pictures with him.) When Natasha complained at him, he gave her a smug look. “But how many of them were little girls looking at you for a role model?”

“They don’t need to look at me for a role model,” Natasha replied, horrified. “I’m a terrible role model.”

“You’re a badass in a world with very few female badasses,” Bucky replied. “They want to be like you.”

“That’s terrifying,” she said.

“So’re you,” he pointed out. Then he held up his hands, which were laden with bags. “Are we done yet?”

She sighed. “I suppose. As long as you understand that we’ll be doing this again when the weather changes.”

Bucky grumbled, but an hour later when she plopped down on his couch and ordered him to go change, he obeyed, coming back downstairs in a pair of super-comfortable skinny jeans and a soft, chunky sweater the same silvery-grey color of his eyes. “Now, see?” Natasha said as he curled up in the armchair. “Isn’t that better? It fits, it’s warm, and it’s all yours.”

He hummed softly, staring at the television. “I... yeah,” he admitted. “It’s nice.” He looked down at his hands for a minute, then back up at her. “I never really thought about it,” he admitted. “Having my own clothes and things.”

“You don’t,” she said softly. “You’re used to having everything you need provided for you and anything that you didn’t need disallowed. But you don’t have to live like that any more.”

“I guess not, considering the amount of money I spent on new clothes today.”

“Worth it to get you into some pants that finally compliment that ass,” she said, grinning.

He threw a pillow at her. “Go home.”

“Not a chance,” Natasha replied. “Sam said he was picking up barbecue for dinner. I’m not going anywhere until I get some.”

Bucky settled back into his seat. “Fine, then,” he grumbled, but he was grinning as he did so. “Then put something good on the TV.”

Being Natasha, she flipped through the channels until she found a Spongebob marathon.

“I said something _good_ , Natasha!”


End file.
